The Sunday Oregonian., May 31, 1908, Magazine Section, Page 5, Image 53

THE SUNDAY OREGONIAN, PORTLAND. MAT 31, 1908.
m
COU EDWARD J BAKER
-HATCH LESS ORATOR
Jb -fold m ;tfoe fetebiresQue teb&ge,
PROFESSOR SHORTY MCA5E.
BT SEWELL FORD.
ME? Well. I ain't been around the
studio much lately, that's right.
You'd never guess it. but I've been
cut to Primrose Park mixln' it with the
neighbors. And say. there's less money
and more excitement to that game than
anything else I've struck.
The way I got dragged into it was like
this: Just across the road from my
place is cne of those swell big ranches
that hog the shore-front all the way from
Mott Haven up to' the Jumpln'-off place.
From the outside all you can see Is Iron
gates and stone wall and stretches of
green-plush lawn. Way over behind the
trees you can get a squint at the chimney
tops, and you know that underneath is a
little cottage about the slse of the Grand
Central Station. That's the style you
live in when you've hit the stock market
right, or In case you've got to be a top
notch grafter that the muck rakers ain't
dug up yet.
I'd been wonderin what kind of folks
hung out in there, but I'd never seen any
of 'em out front, only gardeners klllin'
time, and coachmen exercusin the horses.
But one mornln" I geu a private view
that was worth watchin' for.
The first thing on the programme was
an old duffer dodgin' in and out around
the bushes and trees like he was tryln'
to lose somebody. That got me curious
right away, and 1 begins to pipe him off.
lie was togged out in white ducks, some
thin like a window cook in a three-off
Joint, only he didn't sport any apron, and
his cap had gold braid on It. His hair
was white, too, and his under Hp was
decorated with one of them old-fash-ifrfied
teasers just a little bunch of cot
ton that the barber had shied. He was
a well-built old boy, but his face had- a
sort of a sole-leather tint to it that didn't
look healthy.
From his motions I conldn't make out
whether he was havln' a game of hide-and-go-seek,
or was beln,' chased by a
dog. 1 he last thought seemed more
likely, so I strolls over to the stone wall
and gets ready to hand otit a swift kick
to the kioodle In case It was nested.
When he sees me the old gent begins to
dodge livelier than everand make signals
with his hands. Well, I didn't know his
'code. I couldn't guess whether he wanted
me to run for a club, or was tryin' to
Keep me from buttln' In, sd I just stands
there with my mouth open and looks
fuoli.xh.
Next thing I sees is a wedge-faced,
long-legged guy comln' across the lawn
on the jump. First off I thought he was
pushln' one of those sick-abed chairs, like
they use op the board walk at Atlantic
City, But as he gets nearer I see It was
a green wicker tea wagon you know.
I ain't got to the tea wagon stage my-sr-lf,
but I've seen 'em out at Rockywold
and them places. Handy as a pocket In
a shirt, they are. When you've got com
pany In the afternoon the butler wheels
the thing out on the veranda and digs up
a whole tea-makln' outfit from the inside.
When it's shut It looks a good deal like
one of them laundry push-carts they have
in Harlem.
Now, I ain't in love with tea at any
time of the day except for supper, and I
sure would pass it up Just after break
fast; ut 1 don't Know as I'd break my
nook to get away from it, same's the old
gent was doin'. The minute he gets a
look at the wagon comln' his way he
does some lively side-steppin'. Then he
jumps behind a hush and hides, glvin'
me the sign not to let on.
The long-legged guy knew his business,
though; for he came straight on, like he
was on trail of a scent, and the first
thing old Whitey knows he's been run
down. So he gives In then, just as if he'd
been tagged.
Babbitt," says he, "I . had you hull
down at one time, didn't I?"
But either Babbitt was too much out
of breath, or else he wasn't the talkative
kind, for he never says a word, but Just
opens up the top of the cart and proceeds
to haul out some bottles and a glass.
First he spoons out some white powder
Into a tumbler. Then he pours in some,
water and stirs it with a spoon. When
the mess is done he sticks it out to the
old gent The old one never lifts a finger,
though.
"Salute, first, you. frosen-faced scum of
the earth!" he yells. "Salute, sir!"
Babbitt makes a stab at salutih, too,
and mighty sudden.
"Now, you white-livered imitation of a
man." says the old gent, "you may hand
over that villainous stufT! Bah!" and he
takes a sniff of it.
Babbitt keeps his eyes glued on him
until the last drop was down, then he
jumped. Lucky he was quick on tha
duck, for the glass Just whizzed over the
top of his head. While he was atowln
the things away the old fellow let loose.
Say, you talk about a cussin'! . I'll bet
you never heard a string like that. It
wasn't the longshoreman's kind. But the
way he put together straight dictionary
words was enough to give you a chill. It
was the rattlln' style he had of rippv
'em out, too, that made it sound like
swearin'. If there was any part of that
long-legged guy that he didn't pay his
respects to. from his ears to his toe
nails. I didn't notice it.
"It's the last time you get any of that
slush into me. Babbitt!" says he. "Do
you hear that, you peanut-headed, scis-sor-shauked
whelp?"
"Ten-thirty's the next dose. Commo
dore," says he as he starts off.
"It is. eh. you wall-eyed deck swab?"
howls the Commodore. "If you mix any
more of that Infant food for me I'll skin
you alive, and sew you up hind side be
fore. Do you hear that, you?"
I was wearln' a broad grin when the
old Commodore turns around to me.
"If that fellow keeps this up," says he,
"I shall lose my temper some day. Ever
drink medicated milk, eh? Ugh! It tastes
the way burnt feathers smell. And I'm
dosed with it eight times a day! Milk!
But what makes me mad is1 to have it
ladled out to me by that long-faced, fish
eyed food destroyer, whose only Joy in
life is to hunt me down and gloat over
my misery. Oh. I'll get square with him
ryet, Bir; 1 swear I will."
"I wish you luck," says I.
"Who are you, anyway?" says he.
"Nobody much," says I; "so there's two
of us. I'm livin' in the cottage across
the way."
"The deuce you say!" says he. "Then
you're Shorty McCabe, aren't you?"
"You're on," says I. "How'd you
guess it?"
Well, it seems one of my reg'lars was
! ' '. , :
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Yy- ! mti ,
IT WAS THE COMMODORE
a partner of his son-in-law, who owned
the big place, and they'd been talktn'
about me just the dayk before. After that
It didn't take lonfr for the Commodore
and me to get a line on each other, and
when I finds out he's Roaring Dick, tho
nervy old chap that stood qut on the
front porch of his ship all through the
muss at Santiago Bay and hammered
the daylights out of the Spanish fleet, I
gives him the hand.
"I've heard about you in the papers,"
says I.
"But not so often as I used to read
about you," sayshe.
And say, inside of ten minutes we was
like a' couple of G. A. H. vets, at a re
union. Then he told me all. about the
medlcated-mllk business.
It didn't take any second sight to see
that the Commodore was a gay old sport.
He'd been on the European station for
three years, knockin' around with kings
and princes and French and Russian
naval officers that was grand dukes and
such when they was ashore; ' and he'd
carried along with him a truck driver's
thirst and the capacity of a ward boss.
The fly stuff he'd stowed away In that
time must have been enough to sail a
ship on. I guess he didn't mind it much,
though, for he'd been in pickle a long
time. It was the seventeen-course night
dinners and the foreign cooking that gave
him the knock-out.
All of a sudden his digester bad thrown
up the job, and before he knew it he was
in a state where a hot biscuit or a piece
of fried potato would lay him out on his
back for a week. He'd come home on
sick leave to visit his daughter, and his
rich son-in-law had steered him up
against a specialist who told him that if
he didn't quit and obey orders he
wouldn't last three weeks. The orders
was to live on nothln but medicated
milk, and for a man that had been livin'
the way he had it was an awful jolt.
He couldn't be trusted to take the stuff
himself, so they hired valets to keep him
doped with it.
"I scared the first one half to death."
says the Ammodore, "and the next one
I bribed to smuggle out ham sandwiches.
Then they got this fellow Babbitt to fol
low me around with that cursed go-cart,
and I haven't had a moment's peace
since. He's Just about equal to a Job
like that. Babbitt is. I make him earn
his money, though."
You'd have thought so if you could
have seen- the old Commodore work up
games to throw Babbitt off the track. I
put in most of the day watchin' em at
It. and it was as good as a vaudeville act.
About a quarter of an hour before it was
time for the dose the valet would come
out and begin,to look, around the grounds.
Soon as he'd located 'the Commodore he'd
slide off after his tea wagon. That was
just where the old boy got in his fine
work. The minute Babbitt was out of
sight the Commodore makes a break for
a new hidin place, so the valet has to
wheel that cart an over the lot. playln'
peekaboo behind every bush and tree un
til he nailed his man.
Now. you'd think most anyone with a
head would have cracked a joke now and
then with the old gent, and kind of made
it easy all round. But not Babbitt. He'd
been hired to get medicated milk into the
Commodore, and that was all the Idea
his nut could accommodate at one tinle.
He was one of these stiff-necked, cold
blooded flunkies that don't seem much
more human than wooden Indians. He
had' an aggravating way. too. of treatln
the old chap when he got him cornered.
He was polite enough, so far as what
he had to say. but it was the mean look
in his ratty little eyes that grated.
With every dose the Commodore got
madder and madder. Some of the names
he thought up to call that valet was
worth puttin in a book. It seemed like
a shame, though, to stir up the old gent
that way, and I don't believe the medi
cine did him any more good. He took
It. though, because he'd promised his
daughter he would. Course. I had my
own notions of that kind of treatment.
but I couldn't see that it was up to me
to Jump in the coacher's box and give
off, any advice.
Next mornin' I'd been out for a little
leg work, and I was just joggin' into the
park again, when I hears all kinds of a
ruction goin" on over behind the stone
wall. There was screams and yells and
shouts. like a Saturday-night riot in
Double alley. I pokes up a giraffe neck
and sees a couple of women runnin'
across the lawn. Pretty soon what they
was chasin' comes into view. It was the
Commodore. He .Was pushin' the tea
.... -
it wmmmmmi
PUSHING HIS TEA WAGON.
wagon in front of him, .and In the top of
"that, with Just his legs and arms stickln'
out, was Babbitt.
I knew what was up in a minute. He'd
lost his temper. Just as he was afraid
he would, and -before he'd got it back
again he'd grabbed the valet and jammed
him head first into the green cart. But
where he was goin' with him was more'n
I could guess. Anyway, it was some
where that he was in a hurry to 'get to.
for the old boy was rushin' the outfit
across the front yard for all he was
worth.
"Oh, stop him, stop him!" screams one
of the women, that I figures out must
be the daughter. f i
"Stop 'tm! Stop 'im!" yells the other.
She looked like one of the maids.
"I'm no back-Btop," thinks I to myself.
"Besides, this la a family affair."
- I'd have hated to have blocked that
run, too. for It was doin' me a lot of
good, just watchin' It, and thlnkln' of
the bumps Babbitt was gettln', with his
head down among the bottles. "
I follows along on the outside, though,
and in a minute or so I sees what the
Commodore was almin' at. Out to one
side was a cute little fish pond, about a
hundred feet across, and he -was makln
a bee line for that. It was down in a
sort of hollow, with nice smooth turf
slopin' clear- to the edge.
When the Commodore get half-way
down he gives the cart one last push, and
five seconds later Mr. Babbitt,-with his
head still stuck In the wagon, souses into
the water like he'd been dropped from a
balloon. The old boy stays Just long
enough to see the splash, and' then he
keeps right on goin' towards New York.
At that I jumps the stone wall and pre
pares to do some quick dlvin', but before
I could fetch the pond Babbitt comes to
the top, blowin' muddy water out of his
mouth and threshln' his arms around
windmill fashion. Then his feet touches
bottom and he finds he ain't in any dan
ger of bein' drowned. The wagon comes
up. too. and the first thing he does is to
grab that. By tho time I gets there he
was wiwJin' ashore, and the women had
made up their minds there wa'n't any
use fainting.
"Babbitt." says the Commodore's
daughter, "explain your conduct in
stantly! What were you doing standing
on your head in that tea wagon?"
"Please, ma'am. I I forget," splut
ters Babbitt, wipin' the mud out of his
eyes.
"You forget!" says the lady. And say,
anyone that knew the old Commodore,
wouldn't have to do any guessin' as to
who her father was. "You forget, do
you? Well, I want you to remember.
Out with it. now!"
"Yes, ma'am." says BabbHt, tryln' to
prop up his wilted collar, "I'd just give
him hts first dose tor the day, and I'd
dodged the- glass, when somethin'
catches me from behind, throws me into
the tea wagon, and off I goes. But that
dose counts, don't it, ma'am? He got
It down."
I sees how it was then; Babbitt had
been getting a commission for every
glass of the medicated stuff he pumped
into the Commodore.
' "Will you please run after my father
and tell him to come back," says the
lady to me.
"Sorry." says I. "but I'm no antelope.
You'd beter telegraph him."
I didn't stay to see any more, I was
that sore on the whole crowd, .but I
hoped the old one would have sense
enough to clear out for good.-
I didn't hear any more ' from my
neighbbrs all day, but after supper that
night, just about dusk. . somebody
sneaks in through the back way and
wAfebles up to the veranda where I was
sittin. It was the old Commodore. He
was about all in, too.'
"Pid did I drown him?" says he.
"You made an elegant try," says I;
"but there wasn't water enough."
"Thank goodness!" says he. "How I
can die."
"What's the use dyin'?" says I. "Ain't
there nothin' else left to do but that?"
I've got to," says he. "I can't live on
that cursed stuff they've been giving
me, and if I eat anything else I'm done
for. The specialist said so.",
"Oh. well." says I, "maybe he's made
a wrong guess. It's your turn now.
Suppose you come in and let me have
Mother Whaley broil - you & nice juicy
hunk of steak? "
Say, he was near starved. I could tell
that by the way he looked when I men
tioned broiled steak. He shook his
head, though. "11 I did, I'd die before
morning." said he.
"I'll bet you a dollar you wouldn't,"
says I.
"That almost gets a grin out of him,
"Shorty" says he, "I'm going to risk
it."
"It's better'n starving to death," says
I.
And h.e sure did eat like a hungry
man. When he'd put away a good
square meal, includln' a dish of sliced
raw onions and two cups of Jiot tea, I
plants him in an arm-chair and shoves
out the cigar box. He looks at the Fum
adores regretful.
"They've kept those locked away
from me for two weeks," says he, "and
that was worse than going without
food,'
"Smoke up, then," says I. "There's
one due you."
"As it will probably be my last, I
guess I will," says he.
Honest, the old gent was so sure he'd
croak Before mornin' that- he wanted
to write some farewell letters, but he
was too done up for that. I tucked him
into bed, opened the windows, and be
fore I x could get out he was sawin'
wood like a hired man.
He was still workln' the fog horn
when I went in to rout him out at 5
o'clock. It was a tough job, but I got
him out of his trance at last.
"Come on," says I. "We've got to do
our three miles and have a rub down
before breakfast." '
- First off he swore he couldn't move,
and I guess he was some stiff from his
sprint the day before, but by the time
he'd got out where the birds was sing
In" and the trees and grass looked like
they'd been done over new durin' the
night I was able to coax him into a
dog, trot. It was a gentle little stunt,
but it limbered the old boy uo. and
after we'd had a shower and a rub he
forgot all about his Joints.
"Well, are you set on keepln' that
date in the obituary column, or will we
have breakfast?" says I.
"I could eat a cold lobscouse," says
he.
"Mother Whaiey's got somethin' bet
ter'n that in the kitchen," says I.
"I suppose this will finish me," says
he, tackhn' the eggs and corn muffins.
Now, wouldn't that give you the pip?
Why, with their specialists and medi
cated dope, they'd got the old chap so
leery of good straight grub that he was
betn' starved to death. And even after
I'd got him braced up into something
like condition, he didn't think it was
hardly right to go on eatin'.
"I expect I ought to go back and
start In on that slop diet agalft," says
he.
I couldn't stand by and see him do
that, though. He was too fine an old
sport to be polished off in any such
style. "See here. Commodore." says I,
"if you're dead stuck on makln' a livin'
skeleton of yourself, why. I throws up
me hands. But if you'll stay here for a
couple of weeks and do Just as I say,
I'll put you in trim to hit up the kind
of life I reckon you think is worth
livin'."
"By glory!" says he, "If you can do
that. I'll "
"No. you won't." says I. "This Is my
blow." .
Course, it was a cinch. He wa'n't any
invalid. There wasstuff enough In him
to last for 20 years. If It was handled
right. He begun to pick up right away.
I only worked him hard enough to
make the meals seem a long ways
apart and the mattress feel good. In
side of a week. I had the red back In
his cheeks, and he was chuckin' the
medicine ball around good and hard,
and tellln me what a scrapper he used
to be when he rlrst went to the cadet
mill, down to Annapolis. You can-always
tell when these old boys feel
kinky they begin to remember things
like that. Before the fortnight was up
he wasn't shyln at anything on the bill
of fare, and he was hlntin' around that
his thirst was comln' hack strong.
"Can't I ever have another drink?"
says he, as .-ad as a kid leavtn' home.
"I'd take as little as I could, get along
with."
"I'll promise to do that," says he.
He did, too. About the second day
after he'd gone back to his son-in-law's
place, he sends after me to come over.
I finds him walkin' around the grounds
as spry as a 2-year-old. - .
"Well," says I, "how did the folks
take it?"
He chuckles. "They don't know what
to say." says he: "They can't see how a
specialist who charges $500 for an
hour's visit can be wrong; but they ad
mit I'm as good as new."
"How's Babbitt?" says I.
"'That's why I wanted you to come
over," says he. "Now, watch." Then he
lets out a roar you could have heard ten
blocks away, and in about two shakes
old wash-day - shows up. ;Ha! you
shark-nosed sculpin!" yells the Commo
dore. "Where's, your confounded tea
cart? Go get it. sir!"
"Yes, sir: directly, sir," says Babbitt
He comes trottln' back in a hurry.
"Got any of that blasted decayed
milk In it?"
"No, sir," says-Babbitt.
"Are you glad or sorry? Speak up,
now!"
"I'm glad, sir," says Babbitt, givin'
the salute.
. "Good!" says the Commodore, "Then
open up your wagon and mix me a
Scotch high-ball."
And Babbitt did It like a little man.
"I find," says the Commodore, winkin'
,,-Xcp b ssaui ;o XS
se ms s UiM Buoie -.sB uea ,,
at me over the top of his glass, "that I
can get along with as few as six of
these a day. To your very good health.
Professor McCabe."
"Stand It? Well, I shouldn't wonder.
He's a tough one. And ten years from
now. if there's another Spanish fleet to
be filled full of shot holes, I shouldn't
be surprised to find my old Commodore
fit and rei-dy to turn the trlek.
(Copyright Associated Sunday Maga
zine lac). '
Tribute to Oregon's First Senator From a Man Who Heard
His Great Speech in the Senate Replying to Breckenridge
"My Day and Generation" is a book bv
Hon. Clark E. Carr. prominent for manv
years in trie politics and general .affairs of
Illinois.. He had pprtronal acquaintance with
Lincoln. Douglas. Ingrersoll, Cullom. GrertfT,
Grant. Jefferson Davis and mot other emi
nent men of his day; and his book la a store
house of short articles of original cnaraeter
on them and many others of national fame
He knew Edward D. Baker, while this
matchless orator "was a resident of Illinois,
and gives a sketch of hlm. which we re
produce here commending at the same
time all the sketches to the reader. The
book Is published by A. C. McClur & Co
Chicago. AMONG the first names I heard,
when at 13 years of o'ge I found my
self In Illinois with my father's
family, was that of Colonel Edward D.
.1 - -
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S!-i:-i:!::ti
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pOLONEL EDWARD D. BAKER.
Baker. He had been wew known in the
state for several years when the Mexican
War came, and in that war, as colonel
of an Illinois regiment, hati gained dis
tinction. He had already, when I first
'heard his name, been a member of Con
gress, having been elected and re-elected
under circumstances peculiar, but of such
a character as to add to, rather than de
tract from, the distinction hitherto
achieved. He was ambitious, so much so
that it was a matter of general comment.
When both were young men, Lincoln
used to tell a story of Baker which
showed the popular feeling in regard to
this peculiarity. Mr. Lincoln said that
an acquaintance surprised young Baker
seated on a. log in a grove adjoining
Jacksonville, an open law book lying at
his feet, sobbing as if his heart would
break. "Whatman be the matter?" ex
claimed the friend., in sympathy. "I have
Just read . in that book." answered
Baker, between his sobs. "The Constitu
tion of the United States and find
that no man can be President who was
not born in the United States." Baker
was born in London, England.
The great glory of Baker was in his
public speaking. He was in this regard
gifted to so high a degree as to be con
sidered by all who heard him as one
among the greatest of orators. While, hi::
.orations did not, in finished scholarship,
equal those of Webster ,or Everett, there
were occasional flashes of eloquence that
surpassed either, and he was always the
most charming and persuasive of speak
ers. Even to this day, in Illinois and all
up and down the Pacific slqpe, the older
men and women tell of the magic of
Baker's words as, they fell from, his lips
with such irresistible power as to carry
all before him. ,
In riding the circuit throughout Central
Illinois practicing law. Baker visited and
attended court at the different . county
seatst I know no better description of
him than that given In arf able address
delivered before the Illinois State His
torical Society by Hon. William T. David
son, of Lewistown, editor of the Fulton
County Democrat, as follows:
."Ned Baker was in a class by himself.
If he only spoke for five minutes to the
court on some point of law, the crowded
courtroom was all attention.' But 1f in a
murder case he spoke for hours, his audi
ence was thrflled to the- verge of collapse.
Two-thirds of a century has passed, but
I can see that straight, lithe, graceful
blonde youth as he swayed his audience,
Jurors, the bar, and even the Judge upon
the bench, with the -music of his voice,
his word pictures, his irresistible logic
and. Illustrations, and the unconscious,
spontaneous, perfervid oratory that even
now come resh to me."
Colonel Caleb Finch, who emigrated to
California from Galesburg in 1849, was
fond of telling of a triumph of Baker's
at Marysville.
This frontier town, like many of the
others, was then populated by desperate',
devil-may-care men. whose sympathies
wore usually, with the pro-slavery, negro
hating party. Many of the Marysville
men were from Central, and Southern Illi
nois. Baker, who had emigrated from
Illinois only a year or two before, was
already well known in San Francisco,
and his fame was gradually extending
throughout the state. Colonel Finch had
known and often heard him in Illinois,
and, with others of his political par-,
invited him to Marysville. .So soon a
they became aware that Baker had been
invited, the bad element, which prepon
derated, knowing his radical! views rosa
up against bim and. declared that he
should not speak. They were bo numer
ous and so desperate that even those who
had invited him felt misgivings about his
safety, and finally, when he- arrived, ad
vised that, after all, he should not at
tempt to spak. Baker agreed, hut sug
gested that if they objected -to his mak
ing a political speech, it be given out that
he would aimply say a few words recall
ing old times in the states. To this every
body assented, but all came with their
revolvers in their hip pockets to see the
arrangement carried cut to the letter.
The meeting was in a rough board thea
ter, such as was always erected In fron-
us . ... .v. - '. ,
" ". rt ----- -
.cSsw
tier mining Towns, upon the stage of
which actors, men and women of not the
best character, nightly appeared.
Colonel Finch said that his heart almost
sank within him as he saw with what
malignity those desperate men, all armed
to the teeth, received Colonel Baker as
he came forward, looking the hero- he
had proved himself to be in Mexico.
There was a slight tremor In his voice
which Colonel Finch said he afterwards
thought, familiar as ' was the speaker
with all the arts of oratory, was as
sumed together with such evident
kindliness and tenderness of feeling as
they had never before seen manifested.
The first sentence the speaker uttered
was : "We are f al- from home and
friends and kindred, far from those who
love us, but they do love us still. Just
as when we harnessed the mute teams
and they followed us as we drove down
the road starting upon our long journey
to California."
He described the incidents of parting.
"When we bade adieu to parents and
wives and children and brothers and sis
ters and sweethearts," he took them, as
it seemed, back into the log houses they
had left on the prairies, gathered the
family about the great fireplace, the good
father and mother and elders seated, the
children and the dog lying on the floor,
the viands cooking upon the hearth, the
pots swinging from the crane, the latch
string always hanging out picturing an
Illinois home so completely that they
were there once again enjoying its de
lights. He gave an account of the con
versation that was perhaps being held In
that home at that very moment about
those who had gone to California, some
of whom were there present.
"Before the great orator had spoken
half an hour," the Colonel said, "nearly
every man in the audience was blowing
his noBe and wiping his eyes on his
sleeve. Finally he paused and said, "But
you don't want to hear me any longer.
I came to make a political speech!"
" 'Go on! Go on! Go on!" came from a
hundred voices.
' 'But I want to say something about
politics,' said the orator.
" 'Say what you Gawd damn please,'
growled the worst desperado in the
crowd, who had emigrated from the Wa
bash region down in Egypt," wiping his
eyes and blowing his nose.
. 'And as sure as you live," concluded
Colonel Finch, "Ned Baker spoke for over
two hours on politics, and I never in all
my life heard the Democrats get such a
roasting."
I never myself heard Colonel Baker
make a political speech before a popular
audience, but fortunately I twice heard
him in the United States Senate, once in
reply to Senator Breckinridge.
I was at Washington during the extra
session of Congress called by President
Lincoln upon the breaking out of the war,
and spent considerable time in the gal
leries of the Senate. Congress was occu
pied almost entirely during that session
in the consideration of war questions and
in providing means for raising armies
and revenue.
Colonel Baker was then & Senator from
Oregon, but had already accepted a com
mission in the Army, and was making
ready to take the field. As may be sup
posed. I took great interest in" a man
who had conferred so much glory upon
my own state, and with whose public
career I was familiar. He wore what I
think they called in the Army an undress
uniform, with no other ornament than
brass buttons. I had only seen him when,
as elsewhere stated, he introduced his
old friend, President Lincoln, upon the
occasion of his Inauguration. I have
never seen a more striking personality.
His was a fine figure and his carriage
and bearing suggested, even in cltlsen's
clothing, the military man. He had lit
erally what might be called eagle eyes.'
with a high forehead -and a decidedly
Roman rose, "the front of Jove himself."
In figure and bearing and movement he
seemed to me to be Julius Caesar, as in
my mind I had pictured him. I have
never, and I think very few have ever,
heard so wonderful a voice not too
strong, nor loud, nor f piercing, but as
clear as a bell, and perfectly moduluted
as It - resounded through the Senate
Chamber. I had never heard tones so
thrilling as they rose In denunciation, in
appeal, in passionate entreaty, in depict
ing the glories of his country, in com
mendation of the patriotic services and
sacrifices of her heroes, and in scornful
invective against her enemies. v
I have heard one of Kie old-timers,
himself an orator of distinction, declare
that he would give everything he pos
sessed if he could learn to say. "The lau
rel wreath that decks the soldier's brow '
as Baker said It. As I then heard him,
there was grandeur In every sentence.
John C. Breckinridge was the fore
most Southern Senator, the last of those
of distinction sympathizing entirely with
the South, who had p to hat time re
tained his seat. He fad only a few daj-s
before retired from the Vice-Presidency.
nnDln VI. Aacna. 4n that T.I-.C it i 1 It! u ;
candidate lor me rresiaency. ior wu
high office he had been supported by
most the entire South.
Senator Breckinridge was a man
striking personality, elegant in depo
ment and charming in manner the be
ideal of Southern chivalry. Although n
so strong nor so rugged a character
.Teffersnn DAVIS, ana aunougn no lie
rose to such heights of oratory as d,
nthap fl,uthm statesmen. no otht-
aoemed to have been cast in so fine
mom. ie was noi a uriiiin.nL --l
he rose to a considerable height of -eloquence
which he sustained throughout his
address, however extended.
I did not hear all of Senator Hreckm
rldge's carefully prepared address. In
which he attempted to justify the Soutlw
ern people who had 'withdrawn from the
Union and set up a separate government,
but I heard enough of it to realize how
able it was. Scarcely ever did any ova
tor on the wrong side of a bad cause
make a better plea of justification.
I have hardly ever henrd a speaker so
complimented for an achievement in ora
tory as was Senator Breckenridge by
Senator Baker In his reply. But theM
was no mistaking Senator Baker's esti
mate of the significance of that oratory
I recall such sentences as this, spoker
with impassioned earnestness. "The ad
dress of the Senator from Kentucky. Mr.
President, was the most beautiful, pol
ished, charming TREASON that was eve
uttered." and with his finger pointed, al
Breckinridge. Baker seemed to han
upon the word as If to impale h m.
But the climax of Senator Baker s reply
was when he depicted Hannibal. afteT the
battle of Cannae, menacing Rome, and
Roman Senator excustng and Just ifyiti.
those enemies- of their country. I cat
never forget the appearance; the attitude,
the sublimity of Baker as., his arm raised,
his voice ringing through the chamber,
he shouted. "What would have beer
thought of him?" And the reply of Sen
ator .Fessenden. which, although sotto
heard throughout the Cnamncr.
"He would have been hurled from tr
Tarpelan Rock." Baker took up the senti
ment and complimented Senator Fcssen
der as "learned far more than myself ic
such lore." The passage was so bril
liant that I am constrained to give it IT
full: . ,
What would have been thought If. in an
other capital, in another republic. In a yet
more martial age. a Senator a. Brave not
more eloquent and dignified than the Sen
ator from Kentucky, yet with the Roman
purple flowing over hi. .houlders, had r ln
In his place, surrounded by all ''"";
tration. of Roman glory, and declared that
advancing Hannibal wa. Just, and that
Oarthare ought to be dealt with in terms of
pace What would have been thought If.
after the battle of Cannae, a Senator there
had risen in hl place, and denounced every
levy of the Roman people, every expendi
ture of Its treasure, every appeal to the old
recollections and the old glories?
Senator Feaaenden He would have been
hurled from the Tarpelan Rock. ,
Senator Baker Sir. a Senator, hlmaelf
learned far more than myeelf in such lore,
tails me. In a voice that I am glad l
audible that "he would have been hurled
from the Tarpelan Rock." It Is a grand
commentary upon the American constitution,
that we permit these to be uttered. I a-K
the Senator to recollect, too. what, save to
send aid and comfort to the enemy, do
these predictions of his amount to?. Every
word thus uttered falls as a note of in
spiration npot every confederate ear. Every ,
sound thus uttered Is a word and falling
from his lips, a mighty word of kindling
and triumph to a foe that determines to
advance. For me. I have no such word aa
a senator to utter. For me, amid temporary
defeat, disaster, disgrace. It seems to me
that duty calU me to utter another word,
and that Is. bold, sudden, forward, de
termined war. according to -the laws of
war. by armies, by military - command
ers.' clothed with full power, advancing
with all the past glories of the Hepubl!e
urging thsm on to conquest.
There was never a more brilliant -oratorical
climax in the United States Sen
ate, if indeed there ever was anywhere.
In order to have even a faint conception
of it, and of the circumstances which
Justified it, one must reflect that the ad
dress was made only ten days after the
disastrous defeat of the. Union Army at
Bull Run, and that from the-, windows of
the Capitol one could then, with a glass,
see the Confederate flags and the shadowy
forms of the Confederate battalions as
they moved about on the distant fields
of the Old Dominion, preparing to ad
vance upon Washington.
Just beside the grand portal 01 tne t-ap-itol
at Rome, which stands, upon one of
the seven hills, is the Tarpelan Rock,
from which malefactors were hurled to
be dashed in. pieces upon the stones 100
feet below. Happily there is no 'such
awful chasm near the Capitol of the
United States, but at that moment we
were so wrought up that, had such con
dign punishment been inflicted upon the
object of this scathing denunciation, we
could have looked on unmoved. When the
climax was reached, all eyes turned to
Senator Breckinridge. He sat there un
daunted, the personification of Southern
chivalry. As we looked into his face.
It bore unmistakable evidence of his noble
birth and lineage. But the unnatural
pallor that blanched his cheeks and the
nervous twirling of his thumbs, as his
hands were clasped upon his desk, gave
sure indications that It required a su
preme effort for him to appear unmoved.
Of several brilliant passages that
flashed forth from the inspired lips of
Baker during that session, I recall an
other that I heard, so. striking that 4t
made almost as vivid an impression upon
my mind as the one Just quoted
The Southern Senators and. in fact.
all- tnose wno wisnea tne uavernmem
to stop the war and recognize the Con
federacy, descanted eloquently upon
the horrors of war and the beauties of
peace, to which 8enator Baker replied.
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